


Unexpected Results

by SweetHermitress



Category: Welcome to Night Vale, wtnv
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHermitress/pseuds/SweetHermitress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of this fic take place during the episode "One Year Later."  Carlos realizes his feelings for Cecil and finally admits them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Results

There had come a point shortly into his stay in Night Vale when Carlos ceded that he really had no idea what to expect. As a man of science, one who felt certain that with enough time and patience nearly anything could be explained and quantified, this was a difficult admission. He and his team knew that Night Vale was the home of more allegedly unexplained phenomena than anywhere else in the country, so they all arrived knowing there would be certain abnormalities to the little town. They just hadn’t expected things to be so, well, weird.

Things as simple as the physical laws did not work the way they were supposed to; concepts like time and gravity seemed to be more like a loose set of guidelines within which citizens usually operated, rather than fixed laws of the universe. Speaking of these residents, not all of them were entirely human – a few were outright inhuman, creatures he had long ago dismissed as mythical creatures from bedtime stories. Those who were not human or not-quite human alike seemed to meet a stunning degree of acceptance amongst their fellow townsfolk, which Carlos admitted was nice. Less nice was the acceptance of casual violence and death, which was frighteningly rampant. Some days he might plan on researching one particular set of anomalies only to have even more bizarre ones crop up, ones so interesting – or dangerous – that they took precedence. On any given day, he could honestly say he did not know what to expect, and the possibilities both thrilled and terrified him.

When he had woken up this morning, for example, he had never expected to nearly be killed by a horde of doll-sized people.

He had known about the Underground City beneath the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex – its discovery serendipitously coincided with his team’s arrival in Night Vale. Every so often he or one of his colleagues would try to learn a little bit more, usually relying on statements from Teddy Williams himself but also on the occasional updates on Night Vale Community Radio, which was almost always playing in their makeshift laboratory. Still, between massive earthquakes being recorded in the absence of any actual seismic activity and the citizens’ blatant disregard for any warnings about Radon Canyon, the miniscule city underneath the pin retrieval area of Lane Five was just not one of their top priorities.

Not that it would have mattered had they studied it, Carlos would concede as he drove, shaken and bloodied, away from the scene of the clash between Night Vale and this subterranean Lilliput. When he tried to show the townsfolk that there was nothing to fear, he had not made any aggressive gestures – at least not according to any human culture he knew. He did not threaten the city in any way. In fact, he thought it all rather quaint once he got over the idea of a miniature city of miniature people. That bemusement didn’t last long, as these little denizens of the Underground City launched a full-out attack on him. He was hurt, wounded, but he most certainly would have been even worse off had it not been for the intervention of the so-called Apache Tracker. Who would have guessed such a racist asshole could be so heroic in the end?

His wounds were patched up in short order by Teddy Williams (a medical doctor, as all bowling alley managers in Night Vale were required to be), who was all too eager to rub in Carlos’ face the fact that he had been right all along about the threat of the Underground City. Still in shock, Carlos said nothing in response, merely nodding along to agree with Teddy. He had other things on his mind, things more important than who was right or wrong about something that logically should never have existed. He thanked Teddy quietly, left the bowling alley, numbly got into his car, and began to drive without any particular destination.

Having a near-death experience inevitably has a way of putting one’s life in perspective. Some people give up harmful habits. Others experience a religious awakening. Neither of these happened to Carlos. In fact, if anything he felt more alive than he ever had before. The world was suddenly full of possibilities, and not the sort of impossible-possibilities that were rife in Night Vale; rather the sort that one could find anywhere, in any corner of the globe – but for him, could only be found in this strange, inexplicable town. Because as he lie on the ground, blood welling from the lacerations on his chest, blackness looming in front of his eyes, he was surprised that only one thought entered his mind:

Cecil.

When he first came into town, Carlos really had no idea what to think of the host of one of the only normal radio programs on Night Vale Community Radio (well, as normal as things got in Night Vale). Cecil’s enthusiasm was charming, but his effusive praise of Carlos made the scientist a bit uneasy. Not only did it breed both teasing and, at times, resentment amongst his colleagues (“he acts like you’re the only scientist here and the rest of us don’t even exist,” one of them had scoffed), but Carlos had never felt comfortable hearing so many positive comments heaped upon him, especially when many of them focused on his appearance. He had entered his studies because science was objective, a place where he could immerse himself wholly into his work and know for certain theories that were realistic and ones that were pure bunk. Now that he was in a place where everything was topsy-turvy, he felt lost.

He was surprised to recognize that the one constant he could find throughout his year adrift in a sort of terrifying Wonderland was Cecil. At first, Carlos was disarmed by Cecil’s undisguised infatuation with him. He was reminded of a teenage girl swooning over her first crush. It bordered on creepy, he thought, especially when Cecil continued to invite him to make a statement on his radio program or to talk about scientific phenomena over dinner or coffee. But in time, Carlos realized that he was beginning to find this eagerness quite endearing, especially when he came to understand it extended to all aspects of Cecil’s life. Never one to do anything except wholeheartedly, Cecil clearly loved his hometown and wanted to serve Night Vale’s needs, help its residents – and Carlos knew that with all the hidden and not-so-hidden dangers in this town, they certainly needed all the help they could get.

The radio had always been a constant feature in the lab, but increasingly Carlos took to turning it on in his apartment. Without even looking at the clock – which would have been useless anyway – Carlos always seemed to be turning it on at the beginning of Cecil’s program. He found Cecil’s voice relaxing, strangely soothing even as he talked about the terrible goings-on in Night Vale. He began to feel that Cecil’s voice kept him grounded, that he could begin to make sense of this bizarre new reality as long as Cecil was the one explaining it. It made things seem almost like they would be OK. It was more comforting than a warm blanket on a cold night, and it dawned on Carlos that it made him feel like he was at home – not his hometown or the home he grew up in, but something more permanent, a conceptual place most people spend their whole lives trying to find, that place where they really and truly belong.

He still couldn’t help but blush when hearing Cecil practically swoon over the very thought of him. Since when was he – he, awkward Carlos, who preferred to risk chemical burns and noxious fumes rather than relationships when people so often hurt him – considered someone to be so desired? And after all this time pushing him away, he was afraid Cecil would reject him after all if he suddenly accepted one of his invitations. Even after hearing Cecil’s glee over receiving a phone call from Carlos (why had he thought to call Cecil about the strange man outside his door rather than one of his colleagues or even the Sheriff’s Secret Police?), he just couldn’t pluck up the courage to confess his growing attraction to Cecil. He was here to conduct science, after all, not to pursue matters of the heart. This was only a temporary stop in his life, yet another oddity to study, write about, and move on. It would only hurt them both in the end, and he refused to take that risk. Above all else, a scientist is calculating.

And yet, when he lay bloody and stunned in front of the small army, he wasn’t calculating how to defend himself, how to staunch the blood oozing forth from his wound, how to protect the citizens of Night Vale. All he could think about was how he had blown his chance with the first truly genuine guy he’d met, a person who made him feel safe in an unbelievably unsafe world, and how he would die knowing that his own inaction made him miss out on the best chance at happiness he’d ever had.

It took nearly being killed by a tiny mob for it to suddenly click: This was not just another anomaly to examine objectively. It was an opportunity. Not for a Nobel Prize or academic acclaim, but to throw away all those stupid rules he had made for himself, stop hiding behind his books and beakers, and risk doing something as utterly illogical as falling in love.

When Carlos stopped driving, he had to look around to realize where his wandering mind had led him: The parking lot of the Arby’s. He remembered Cecil talking about the mysterious lights floating above the glowing red sign on one of Carlos’ first few days in Night Vale. He and his team still had no idea what they were. But right now he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was that the lights were ethereal, beautiful, and he wanted to share them with someone.

He had to take a slow, purposeful breath in an attempt to steady his racing heart as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Then he reminded himself that he had been shot at by a tiny army today. If he could live through that, he could certainly live through a phone call. With one last hard swallow to calm his nerves, he dialed Cecil’s number.

When Cecil breathlessly agreed to come meet him, Carlos felt his nerves buzzing in anticipation. He didn’t plan anything to say. He didn’t know what to expect. He never knew what to expect in this place. But even amongst the five-headed dragons and hovering cats and mysterious hooded figures, he ended finding something he had expected least of all in this crazy, impossible town: someone who made him want to stay there forever.


End file.
